


Bye, Bye

by mouseratstan



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Angst, Canon Related, F/M, Memories, Not A Happy Ending, Potentially Upsetting Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24750109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouseratstan/pseuds/mouseratstan
Summary: Five times Ben Wyatt doesn't understand Li'l Sebastian, and one time that he does.
Relationships: Leslie Knope/Ben Wyatt
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	Bye, Bye

It's just a dumb horse.

A  _ mini horse,  _ sure. Kind of a small horse. But that's it. That's all it'll ever be. It has a degree and all of Pawnee (even Ron Swanson) loves this horse but he just doesn't get it. He doesn't see the appeal.

He realizes that his crush is not so tiny when she wraps her fingers around his wrist and pulls him over to the stable. He's wearing that stupid shirt for her and pretending to understand because he loves the way her face lights up, loves the way she jumps up and down on the balls of her feet and points in the horse’s direction, as if this animal is holding up the world. And he doesn't get it, but he's okay with it, because while she's looking at the horse, it means he gets to look at her without interruption. Her eyes are wide, she is glowing under the sun and basking in the success of her Harvest Festival, and she calls it  _ theirs. _

_ It's ours. _

And she hugs him and he wraps his arms around her waist and their bodies just seem to fit together perfectly, like some kind of puzzle that's taken this long to solve. Long after he goes home he can still feel the ghost of her touch, and he strips off his sweaty shirt and tosses it in the back of his closet. He doesn't think about it again.

...

When the horse dies, she cries. They've been dating only for a few months but it's long enough that he knows now that he would risk anything for her, even the fury of his boss and best friend. And the horse dies and she climbs into his lap the second they get to her place so she can sob into his neck.

Her body is shaking as he holds her, his fingers running through her hair, and she feels so small pressed against him. She feels small and she is trembling, and he doesn't say it, but he's cursing this horse for making her feel this way, as if it's his fault for dying and his fault that Pawnee loves him and his fault that his girlfriend is falling apart and for two hours, not even breakfast food can pull her out of her misery.

She plans a horse funeral. It's ridiculous. He doesn't understand. But he watches her as she works with some kind of awe and he kisses her behind the stage and they're caught, twice, and she still says it's worth the risk if she can be with him.

They sing a song and it becomes an instant classic in Pawnee. He still doesn't get it. But he watches her as she sings along and he wipes the tears that threaten to fall from her eyes.

It's that moment that he can see a forever in her.

...

The next time he thinks of that horse is their wedding day. He holds her close to him and she looks so beautiful, so radiant, and she's already crying overwhelmingly happy tears by the time their friends crowd around and sing that dumb song again. He rolls his eyes and he smiles, because he knows this part isn't for him; it's for her. It's for the family they've made along the way. A reminder of all the things they've gone through together and what they can accomplish.

He watches her as she sings and he only mumbles the words, because she's beautiful and she distracts him. Because she's his wife now and he's spent his whole life just wandering around, looking for her.

And he never plans on losing her again.

...

They continue to grow their little family. She's pregnant with triplets when they hear the song again. Everyone is on stage and the crowd is screaming as soon as the song starts up and all he can do is stare with exasperation, because really, he should've expected this. They can't do anything when they come together without mentioning this dumb mini horse and singing this song.

But his wife is pregnant and Pawnee and Eagleton are coming together and— is that Ron up on stage playing the saxophone? And the feeling in the air is just so good that he can't help but give in and sing a little. Just because their future is coming and big things are happening and they're moving up. And she is beautiful and happy so even though he doesn't understand this horse, or the duplicate horse they have on stage, he sings anyway.

...

He also sings anyway on video call, while he's at home and she's at work and everyone is stuck at home for fear of getting sick. He's been homeschooling their kids and it feels like he hasn't seen any of these people in so long, trapped in phone trees and quick text messages and social media posts. It's a scary time and nobody knows what they're doing, and when the idea is proposed that they surprise her with a group call, he already has a feeling where this is going to be headed.

The guitar is brought out and they start to sing, and he sighs, because this really is a long song, and now it's even longer. And this horse has been dead for so many years but somehow, it's still capable of bringing them together. He pulls out his phone and he plays along, watches her as she smiles and starts to cry, and he can't wait until she gets home and he can hold her again. She’ll whisper  _ thank you  _ into his ear and he’ll kiss her hair and he’ll just be grateful that despite this, despite this uncertain future and the current frustration of his job, he still has her.

_ He still had her. _

...

He's older by the time he's sitting at his desk, remembering it all. He's older but not that old, only hints of gray, which feels like a crime all by itself, feels like cruelty from the universe. He's packing up their house because it's finally time to start moving on, finally time to stop pretending she's still here, and he can't do that if all of her things are still in place, untouched, untainted.

He digs through his closet and the first thing he finds is that shirt, that stupid shirt, one he hardly touched and never wore again after that first Harvest Festival. He crushes the fabric in his hands and then he's crying into it, sobs ripping from his throat, because she was capable of so many great things, brought together that whole Festival, united the whole town with a horse.

This stupid, tiny horse that she loved so much that it's song was played at their wedding, one of the happiest days of their lives. It played when they united two rivaling towns, bringing even longtime enemies together. It played when the world felt like it was ending and she couldn't spread joy with hugs so she did with song. It was played to their children when they were old enough to learn how to sing and it was played at their middle school graduation party. It was played everytime friends came over and everytime he rolled his eyes and he grinned at his wife, and he had no idea, then, what he was missing out on.

They tried to play it at her funeral. Andy stood on stage with his guitar and he got one line in before his voice started to crack, and he stood there trying not to cry until April had to usher him off the stage, telling him  _ it's okay, it's okay. She knows.  _

Somewhere out there, she's singing it now.

He cries into that stupid shirt and he stares at a picture of the two of them from that first Harvest Festival, when everything was still so new and tentative and he wanted to kiss her but couldn't find the strength. He didn't see, then, how this horse is like her. How through her, and this animal, they spread all things joy and positivity and they touched lives, changed lives for the better.

And maybe she's up there somewhere with him and they can just revel in the fact that they made people better, happier. And he can't believe that after all these years he's shrugged aside this mini horse just because he was a mini horse, as if he couldn't see the joy he brought out in people, how he united people just like she did. And now both of them are gone, and it feels like there's no more light in the world. Every piece of it has been squeezed out of him and all that's left is a broken man crying into a festival t-shirt and staring at a picture of a dead woman and a dead horse.

And for the first time, Ben Wyatt understands Li’l Sebastian.


End file.
